Damajipant's revenue account was settled, and the Lord Himself preserved his honor. Listen with attention to his story. I bow to the holy ones. Damajipant lived at Mangalvedha with a large family, a merchant respected by all. His duty was to manage the revenue of the district, but hard times befell him. He broke open the grain stores and fed the people of Pandhari during the famine. He saved the poor and the destitute, and great fame spread throughout the land. The Kannada brahmin who was auditing the accounts wrote a complaint and sent it to the court. The kingdom of the Bahmani sultan was at Bidar. Upon reading the letter, a summons was issued. Damajipant was seized and taken away. Meanwhile, Vitthal assumed a disguise. He sold grain at the market rate plus a surcharge and converted it all into cash. He wrote a receipt in Damajipant's name with a sealed document. Vittho became the guarantor and went to Bidar before the king. 'Greetings, my lord,' they ask, 'where are you from?' He replies, 'From Mangalvedha.' 'Damajipant has sent the revenue, with receipts and documents.' Seeing this, the king was pleased and said, 'We summoned him for nothing.' 'What is your name?' asks the officer. He replies, 'Vitha the laborer, sir.' They ask him to certify the receipt with measurement. He gave a written acknowledgment, and the king honored him with a robe, a parasol, a horse, a palanquin, and ornaments, sending an escort with him. On the road, they missed each other. The escorts arrived at Mangalvedha as they were. Damajipant was taken to Bidar, and the king said, 'A marvel has occurred. Yesterday a man named Vitha the laborer came and settled the accounts.' 'State your business quickly; speak your conviction plainly.' 'What Vitha? Who sent him? The accounts were already settled before I arrived.' When he examined the receipt, his heart burst with emotion; his eyes filled with tears. The king saw a dark, tender, beautiful form. That One had carried the burden on His own head. The king honored Damajipant, who said, 'This is not my doing.' 'Enough of your service now, my lord. You have exhausted my dear Vitthoba.' Taking leave, he returned home and became detached from all worldly things. Damajipant devoted himself to Pandhari. Such is the closeness of his Hari. Says Tuka, Vittho is the champion of the helpless; Hari never forsakes His devotee.

Damajipant's revenue account came due, and the Lord himself kept his honor. Listen with care to his story. I bow to the holy ones. Damajipant lived in Mangalvedha with a large family, a merchant whom all respected. His duty was to manage the district's grain. Then a hard time fell. He broke open the grain stores and fed the people of Pandhari through the famine. He saved the poor and the helpless, and his fame spread through the land. The Kannada brahmin auditing the accounts wrote a complaint and sent it on. The sultan's kingdom was at Bidar. When the king read the letter, a summons was issued. Damajipant was seized and led away. Meanwhile Vitthal put on a disguise. He sold grain at the market rate with a surcharge and turned it all into cash. He wrote a receipt in Damajipant's name and sealed the document. Vittho became the guarantor and went to Bidar before the king. They greet him and ask where he is from. He says, from Mangalvedha. Damajipant has sent the revenue, with receipts and papers. The king was pleased and said, I summoned him for nothing. The officer asks his name. He says, Vitha the laborer, sir. They ask him to certify the receipt with the measure. He gave a written acknowledgment, and was sent off honored with a robe, a parasol, a horse, a palanquin, and ornaments, with an escort. On the road they missed each other; the escort arrived at Mangalvedha. Damajipant was brought to Bidar. The king said, a marvel has happened. Yesterday Vitha the laborer came and settled the accounts. State your business quickly; speak plainly. What Vitha? Who sent him, and when? The accounts were settled before I arrived. When he looked at the receipt, his heart broke open; his eyes filled. The king saw a dark, tender, lovely form: that One had carried the burden on his own head. The king honored Damajipant, who said, this is not my doing. Enough of your service now, my lord; I have worn out my dear Vithoba. He took his leave, came home, and grew detached from everything. Damajipant gave himself to Pandhari. So near is his Hari. Tuka says: Vittho is the champion of the helpless; this Hari never forsakes his servant.